Blood Omen: Legacy of Victor
by Turn Based Tragedy
Summary: The tragic story of the deevolution of Kain's distant family members...
1. My blogna has a first name

Disclaimer: I do not own the Legacy of Kain; I only own the talking sword and Victor. If I owned Legacy of Kain, I wouldn't waste my time typing crappy fan fiction. Or maybe I would…I still don't own Legacy of Kain though…

Blood Omen

Legacy of Victor

**Chapter one: Miscellaneous Idiocy **

It was a dark and lethal night. Nothing stirred, not even an owl flew through the air. A fain fog settled ominously over the quiet streets. On this night, someone ordered a pizza.

Victor drove down the street slowly, looking for house number eight on Destiny Lane. _Cheesy name really_ he thought to himself dryly. Cheesy name or no it was still in the dead of night. Victor was mortally afraid of the dark, not just any dark mind you but the kind of dark that was so silent it was sure to be hiding something. In other words, tonight. As terrified as he was however, he still had to deliver the pizza.

So on he drove, past twenty-nine, past twenty-eight, it was taking dreadfully long. Past twenty-four, past twenty-three, the fog that was so faint before was becoming thick now, it would be difficult to see the house numbers in this. In fact, the harder he tried to see the house numbers, the more they disappeared, along with the house and everything else on the street. He could not see the street in front of him but he still kept going on at the same slow pace. It was dreadfully painfully slow, his position in his seat was becoming quite uncomfortable, why hadn't he noticed sitting on something before? He reached around for the pizza to make sure it wasn't _that_ that he was sitting on. He found it safe on the seat behind him. He looked out at the oncoming fog and it seemed as if the fog had gotten in the car, had he left a window open?

He simply could not drive in this, he put his foot on the brakes…but the car wouldn't stop, it just kept going at the same tantalizingly slow pace. What was worse was the ride was becoming very bumpy, it felt as if the vehicle itself was going to fall apart beneath him. Victor tried the gas pedal but that didn't do anything either. He could neither end his suffering by speeding the endeavor or bringing it to a stop. He let go of the steering wheel, covered his eyes in freight, and hugged the pizza box to his chest; he was going to die no matter what he did. It was all too much!

The car gave a sudden lurch and Victor fell forward grasping for the steering wheel, all he found was a rope and something fuzzy. He couldn't understand, what was happening? He was dazed, confused, and strangely hungry. The car wouldn't go, the car wouldn't stop, he was painfully uncomfortable, and is head was spinning horribly. But hey, the fog was letting up.

Ever so slowly, he was emerging from the accursed doom mist. Victor was sure that the sun's rays themselves would have danced in jubilation had they not died in the treacherous journey through the fog. It seemed, however, that coming out of the fog was _not_ the answer to his current problem, in fact, it only made things _worse._ Victor looked about himself and realized, to his horror, he was not in Kansas…err, on Destiny Lane any more; he had walked into _The Twilight Zone! _(Dramatic no?)

Kain awoke to the sight of smooth gray stone above him. He gasped as he realized he was looking at the inside of his own coffin. He got out easily enough, but he was a bit shaken. Was he truly alive? At what cost, Kain wondered, was his second life? He meandered out of his crypt into harsh daylight; it was not as comforting as he had remembered. Thankfully, the sun was just setting, sending spectacular shadows from the gravestones. It was almost beautiful in a desolate sort of way.

Something glinted in his eye, causing him to look around. At the bottom of the hill on witch his moselliseum was perched there was a man inspecting his sword, or so it seemed. He was an oddly dressed man, if only because of the coat he was wearing, Kain had never seen one of its make before. Kain was intrigued, why was this man in a _graveyard_ of all places? Surely there were better places to critique a sword…

Quite suddenly, and oh so unexpectedly, the man bellowed "SWORD YOU TALK TO MUCH!" and hurled what appeared to be his only weapon wildly shouting after it "AND MY NAME _IS NOT KAIN_!" Kain was unexplainably sure of two things in that instant. One was that this man was from unfathomably future times and the second was that no matter what he did the land of Nosgoth was doomed to stupidity no matter what he did. Kain could not bear the grim knowledge of the future; he committed suicide, hoping for an oblivion, which would save him from the lack of intelligence that was soon to come.

Victor was on a donkey in what appeared to be a very untechnoligic country clutching a pizza box. His first question was naturally _how did I get here_ his second was _where am I?_ The entire place looked for all the world like old Nosgoth. It was as if he had been transported back in time by the mist he had gone in…being an unreasonable person he figured this was what happened. He was no longer confused but he was tired and hungry so he sat down, right where he was, ate the pizza he had unwittingly dragged with him, and promptly fell asleep.

Victor awoke to find the donkey and the pizza box he was using as a blanket missing. Thinking sadly about that pizza he had eaten, he yawned got up and stretched stiffly. He looked towards the east and spotted a village, he figured his best bet was to find people and mooch some food off of them.

He had only just begun his journey when he ran into a group of mean looking men. "There he is! Or is it?" said one of them scratching his head.

"I think it is…yeah it is!" exclaimed another.

"Blimey..." said yet another of the heavily armed men. "You really packed on the pounds". And with that one of them promptly stabbed a sword through Victor's ribs. They had killed him for what they believed was the second, but was truly the first time.

Mortanious was in a wreck. Nosgoth's only hope had committed suicide only moments after emerging into un-life. He couldn't understand it, Kain had seemed so eager to enter life and extract his revenge…well, now it would always be a mystery because Kain was dead and that was that. Mortanious entered the graveyard and retrieved the heart of darkness from Kain's cold hard body. As soon as he took it out of Kain's chest cavity it resumed it's beating, it was strange how some of these things worked.

Mortanious had only taken a step or two from Kain's slightly rotten corps when something flashed in his eyes. He looked down and saw the something half buried in the dirt. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, it seemed familiar… a fog started to surround him, it rapidly closed in. That had been one of Moebius's confounded pocket time streaming devices. Damn it and he told Moebius not to leave those blasted things lying around too! He dropped the device at once ceasing the journey back through time most nauseatingly.

He didn't seem to have gone back far, but there was always the chance that he was wrong. Just then he heard shouting coming from below him and he looked down. There was fighting at the entrance of the graveyard. A circle was formed around a man, they were taunting taunting him, jeering at him cruelly, and then, one of them stabbed him in the back.

The circle dissipated and Mortanius picked his way down to what he feared to be a dead man. He was lying face first in the dirt but Mortanius knew who it was without looking. This was the murdered nobleman Kain. Mortanius grinned and pulled the sword out of the fresh corpses back. This was his second chance, Nosgoth's second chance. The world would be redeemed after all. Through his exultation, he hardly noticed how oddly dressed Kain was…

Victor sat up with a start. What a strange dream he had had. First he was transported back in time, then unfriendly people killed him, then he was brought back from hell into the world of the living where he promptly sat up and thought it was all a dream…so it wasn't a dream after all. He sat for a while, dumb and uncomprehending as he tried to work out the situation in his head. No matter how he twisted it he just could not grasp his situation. Then, it hit him. His eyes widened in shock as realization took over. There were no microwaves in this era!

Victor squinted at the slowly rising sun, it was only about 11 am and he was already sweating. Maybe he could cook his hot pockets on a roc somewhere. He was just so hot! Perhaps it was because of the big black metal Armour he was wearing…Victor gasped as he realized he _was_ wearing big black metal Armour. How had he come to be wearing Armour?

"Hey" said a voice behind him.

"OH GOD! DON'T MAE ME JOUST!" Victor screamed and assumed the fetal position as an answer.

"Whoa, calm down" the mysterious voice soothed. "I won't make you joust, I just wanted to welcome you into unlife and say 'hi, I'm sword'". Sword? Victor opened his tightly shuteyes and looked around.

"Where are-" Victor began but was cut off by the swords exasperated reply.

"I'm down here idiot, did I not just say I was sword?" Victor looked down stupefied, was that sword really talking to him? No, it wasn't the sword itself but an entity trapped within the blade that was speaking to him now. What monstrous horror was this? And most importantly, why did this Armour have no zippers on it?

"Come Kain, we need to go to your mollesum to collect some artifacts, the grave yard in which your grave lies is to the south west, not far from here". The sword said, and Victor gazed out at the green expanses.


	2. O s c a r

Disclaimer: Me no own the Legacy 'o Kain. Do not sue me, do not steal my Victor, do not steal my talking sword, do not eat your dirty underwear.   
To Twisted Sister: YOU CAN SEE WHERE I'M GOING? _I _CAN'T EVEN SEE WHERE I'M GOING! You're amazing! 

Chapter 2: The Second and Rather Short Edition of Stupidity This had to be the strangest thing that had ever happened to Victor, _first_ he woke up in old time Nosgoth, _then_ he died, _then_ he happened upon the most talkative weapon he had ever met. "C'mon Kain, you're too slow, we can't take forever to get there! Well actually we can I mean…" the sword rambled on and on, blatantly ignoring the fact that it came up with the name Kain on _its own._ "My name isn't-" Victor began but the sword cut him off. "Shush shush!" the sword exclaimed. "We really _have _to get to your final resting place, can't stop to chat ya' know!" Victor saluted smartly and marched onward, literally. After about three miles it became clear that the sword's idea of close and his idea of close were two _very _different things. Three hours of silent travel (if you could call the sword's insistent humming silent) was beginning to get on Victor's fragile nerves. He made up his mind to ask the sword about itself. Besides, it might hurt not to know about it. "Sword…" Victor began hesitantly, not at all sure how to talk to a blade. "Shhhh, don't speak Kain, I know your mind" "You do?" Victor asked confused. "Yes, you want to know of my past…very well, I shall tell you it all. I will start at the very beginning…" _Oh man _Victor thought to him self gleefully._ I'm gonna know this swords story! This is gonna be good! _How very wrong he was. Victor tried to listen, he really did, but as it turned out, the sword really meant it when it said it would star at the beginning. No matter how much you like science, hearing the exact steps of evolution told in excruating detail is not interesting. Victor, by now, had tuned the sword out and wasn't paying any attention when he smacked straight into a rather large sign. This low bill board stated: Here lies the final resting place of the late and highly esteemed nobleman, Kain. "We're here!" the sword shouted, taking particular joy in stating the obvious. "Heh, I have a funny story about this place, well you see me and my, well she was my girl friend at the time…" Victor stared at the accursed blade as it talked about god knows what, and god didn't care. He shifted in position, clanking his newly found armor. He drew back, tensed, and threw the chattering sword. As it sailed through the air he yelled "SWORD YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" and drawing in a deep breath he bellowed "AND MY NAME _IS NOT KAIN_!" He turned his back resolutely on it, if the sword was going to be bothersome it didn't deserve to be traveling with him. _Good _Victor thought rather meanly _I didn't like it any way. _ This Kain person's mollesum was huge. _This entire thing is probably bigger then my entire house _Victor thought in awe. He must have been some one important to warrant something this grand for a crypt. Victor craned his neck just to take it all in, it was like an entire castle for the dead, and far more imposing up close then it had been at a distance. He was already lost inside the grand structure when presently, Victor stepped on something squishy. It was all nasty and gross like; it felt like the type of thing you most defiantly _did not _want in between your toes. It was cold and slippery; he could just tell it was something bad. It seemed just like fingers…and it was. Victor looked down and too his utter horror, he was treading upon the hands of a corpse. 

The body was slightly rotten and flies buzzed around it. Landing on its arms, it's chest, it's face. Cold dead eyes stared, a look of complete helplessness written boldly across its face. The most sickening of all was the corpses face for this body looked exactly like Victor. A precise twin. A dead twin. Victor could not stand the sight of those cold golden eyes bearing into him any longer, he had to get away. Far away from his dead double.


	3. My blogna has a second name

Disclaimer: I-DO-NOT-OWN-THE-LEGACY-OF-KAIN-IT-WOULD-BE-VERY-MEAN-IF-YOU-SUED-ME-PLEASE-DO-NOT-I-DO-OWN-VICTOR-AND-THE-TALKING-SWORD-SO-DO-NOT-STEAL-THOSE-FROM-ME-OR-YOU-WILL-HAVE-STOLLEN-SOMETHING-FROM-ME-AND-THAT-IS-NOT-GOOD! gasps for air   
Oh my GOSH! Some one else reviewed! You guys are _far_ too kind; everyone should **take example** from these fine **review**ers. To Sissy Samurai: Whilst I don't quite remember what I wrote last (I could look but that's too much work…) I am glad there is no more confusion on your behalf…we would not want there to be a mix up on our weaponry. I do it often and just look where it got me.   
To Popeland: It was genius wasn't it? _I mean _why thank you I'm flattered, I will continue to try to make it amusing for you.   
Chapter three: Moronic Babble 

In his haste Victor had not considered that there were no windows in the massive structure that he was blindly running into. If it were any one else in the world this wouldn't have been that big of an issue, however, this was Victor. It took him 0.34 seconds to remember his irrational fear of the dark, and about half that time to hustle his butt back out that light challenged mausoleum.

Once out he began to hover in the entrance to the titan grave. Should he brave the corpse, or go back to the dark? These were the two most fearful things in Victor's definition of the word. _What if that dead guy turns into a zombie?_ Victor thought fretfully. _What if there are _more _zombies in the darkness? _This was all much too scary to do all on his own, so, Victor too a deep breath, ran up, stopped, retreated, ran up, stopped, retreated, and finally ran up and too a mighty leap over the body. Slowing from his run, he looked back at the dead corpse, and he could almost imagine that it was still looking at him. He jolted onward, fear inspiring him to do the dreadful thing he about to do.

Victor walked down the splendid hallways searching for the relic the sword had told him would be there. _I can't believe, _Victor thought to himself in disgust, _its not butter. _And _this sword _will not _shut up. Why did I even go back for it? _It wasn't as if Victor had a choice though, if it were all up to him he wouldn't be in this hot pocket less time zone. He needed a way out of this period and the sword was the only thing, as of yet, that had even offered him a shred of help. Not that Victor actually thought in such complicated manors, it's a miracle that Victor thinks at all.

Being the idiot that Victor was, he was perplexed as to why someone would burry their dead in one of these grand structures. (Little did he know, or probably should know that nobody was actually buried…oh my!) _This is one very, very hugemungous dead person castle this is. _Victor thought in his improper grammar as he meandered at the swords direction. Eventually he cane to a room that did not have a "hard" puzzle to solve in it. Instead, there was a tall pedestal with a small object placed upon it in the very center of the room.

"There! There it is!" the sword exclaimed excitedly.

"That is the thing that will give me a new magic spell?" Victor asked skeptically. It was hard to believe that this tinny thing would grant him a spell.

"Pick it up," the sword urged. Victor took a hesitant step, the shrugged, what had he to loose?

Walking up to the pedestal, he found the object was a card with a picture of a woman on it. It was a curious little thing and Victor was strangely compelled to touch it, to see what it would give him. He reached out tentatively and grazed the glowing surface of the card.

A tingling sensation shot into his arm and through his body. A brief flash of light popped behind his eyes and disappeared just as suddenly as it came.

"You have just received the sanctuary spell," the sword proclaimed importantly. Victor stared at it for a moment. What good did that do him…more importantly, _what did it do?_

"What good does that do me?" He asked.

"This spell will enable you to return to this place at any time you wish." The sword replied just as pompously as he had before.

"_Why would I want to come back here? It's-all-dark-and-spooky-and-it-smells-really-really-bad" _Victor hissed through his fangs.

"Well excuse me princess, I was just doing my job sheesh" The sword grumped right back at Victor.

"What ever" Victor said pushing open the doors at the other side of the room.

"Well, you don't have to…" the sword began but that was all Victor heard for he had just stumbled upon a room with a woman chained to the wall. She moaned in a pathetic way that made Victor's stomach rumble.

"Ho ho!" Victor said in gleefully rubbing his hands together. The woman's head shot up like a bullet on speed and she instantly took on an angry demeanor.

"Now who are you callin' a hoe?" she said inquired bluntly. Victor just stared hungrily at her, salivating slightly. "I may be chained to a wall and half naked" she continued hotly "but I am no hoe! I still have my dignit- wait, what are you doing?" For Victor was moving closer and he was sliding his arms around the girl.

He could _feel_ her fear and _hear _her blood coursing through her veins… Her blood! Victor had to have it, he had to drink it! He sank his newly made fangs easily into her soft warm neck. He felt her stiffen in shock and the added terror was sweetening her delicious lifeblood. As he drained the girl of her blood, she uttered one last word. "Vampire" she whispered and after a moment of delectable panic, she died.

Authors note: Guillotines are fun! Oh, yeah, and I learned how to spell mausoleum just for you all. I only made this "authors note" to make me feel special…it didn't work… P.s. Sorry for the long wait between chapters. My computer was having some problems with retarded devlopment...


	4. M e y e r

**Disclaimer:** Legacy of Kain regrettably belongs to persons other then myself. Victor and his talking sword however, woefully do not belong to persons other then myself. Chaptire 4: Vorador's Mistake 

It was Vorador's task to forge the Reaver blade, and this blade must not have any flaws. That was why Vorador forged it; it was a practice round of sorts. He made _that _one first, the Reaver followed. The Soul Reaver that you know today has no flaws, but that one does. That one has one very major flaw in it: the sword will not shut up.

Vorador had just finished creating the "Practice Reaver" as he liked to call it. The night before he had set it aside to cool and now was inspecting the sword for any dangerous flaws, not that he thought there would be any. No, Vorador was a master sword smith; he assumed he knew what he was doing after thousands of years at the trade. After his inspections Vorador came to one conclusion, the sword was perfect in every way possible and it resembled the likeness of him. Now all Vorador had to do was pour the essence of the spell Janos and the others were going to cast on it and he'd be done. He shuddered to think what the spell would do to the sword, so he poured it on anyway.

As he poured the foul smelling liquid on to his masterpiece he had a sudden flashback to what Janos had told him when he presented Vorador with the concoction. He had said, "You always wanted a new assistant".

"That was sudden, strange, and random…it was also very mysterious I do wonder what my dear elderly master was on about." Vorador said rather uncharacteristically. "I am furthermore confused as to why I am speaking in this British accent when I am clearly of green ancestry" Just as Vorador finished his dialog with himself his hated assistant, Clay came waltzing (literally) through the doorway of his workshop. Vorador was oblivious to this fact and was also, coincidentally, tipped precariously in his seat, staring out his window waiting for the sword to absorb the spell.

"Watcha looking at?" said a voice into his ear that was equally as stupid as it was loud. It was at this point that Vorador jumped, caught himself, and threw his weight forward so he would land without breaking his skull. Even as a vampire he would have rather not taken a stroll down that road.

After his chair was safely back on all four legs, he bellowed "Dammit Clay!" as was his favorite interjection "are you trying to kill me?" This was first time ever Clay had shown the capability to travel somewhere with out causing a considerable amount of damage to his surroundings.

"Sorry Vorador!" chirped Clay cheerfully. "Won't happen again!"

"Better not…" Vorador growled, truly as angry as he sounded. Standing, he decided he would check on the progress of the sword. Surprisingly, the sword had already absorbed the spell. He'd expected it to take much longer then that.

Behind him his assistant was hanging up his coat and gleefully singing, "Breakfast burrito! Breakfast burrito! Lalalalalaaaaa!"

"God DAMMIT CLAY!" (Told you it was his favorite phrase) "I told you if I ever heard that song again I'd…" Vorador let the threat hang menacingly, but his assistant didn't pick up.

"Breakfast burrito! Lalalalalalalaaaaaaaa!"

This was Vorador's breaking point. "I warned you" he hissed and drew the closest weapon to him (which happened to be the practice reaver). In one swift motion Vorador scooped up the new sword and plunged it through Clay's stupid smiling face. Clay was dead, but Vorador could still hear the song.

Vorador glanced down at the practice reaver. Just what kind of spell had Janos put on it? Furthermore, why was Clay still singing? "Hey Vorador! Whadja do that for?" the blade asked him irritatingly. Clay's soul was the sword! It was a terrible destiny for any one to endure…

"Wooohooooo!" Vorador shouted in jubilation. Clay was gone! _Clay was gone! _All he had to do was dispose of the sword and he would be free of Clay forever. But how to get rid of it…and there! A wagon loaded with weapons passed by his open window!

"This is my day!" Vorador exclaimed happily. All he had to do was catch up with the wagon (which wouldn't be hard to do seeing as though there were children out running it) and throw the sword in! "And after I get rid of this disgusting thing I thin I'll give Janos a visit." Vorador said out loud, cackling madly, he left his work shop.

A/N: I have up dated! It took a very long time...sorry...the sword made me do it! THE STUPISITY INFECTED MY BRAIN! (No that wasn't a typo, thats just how far stupidity has sunk in.) 


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